


Diamond in the Rough

by MatleenaMaddie, SilverWing15



Series: What Is Precious [5]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (shhhh that's a spoiler), A tiny bit, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, And Skeppy is a smug lil human, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad and Skeppy's relationship may be read as platonic or romantic, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Demons, Dream is really a bastard in this one, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I don't care I just think they're neat, Immortality, Mind Manipulation, SBI in the background, Temporary Character Death, That trope of the extremely powerful being who's soft for a human?, That's Bad and Skeppy in this fic, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), dream is a bastard, just a bit though, oh did i mention that, you saw nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 11:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatleenaMaddie/pseuds/MatleenaMaddie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWing15/pseuds/SilverWing15
Summary: “Dream is free.”Dream? Skeppy scrunches his nose. The rogue vampire that had tried to hurt some of Skeppy’s favorite Undead? The one who apparently Sired Techno and left him for dead that very same night?He had been certain that the vampire had been dealt with, and that Bad would be free to focus on Skeppy again.“Should we be worried?”Bad’s hold tightens on him protectively, and the demon shifts a little. One of his hands reaches up and gently presses against the diamond on Skeppy’s chest. The one that links them together.“No,” the demon whispers, “I’m not too concerned about it. Sam’s Huntsmen will take care of it.” Bad takes in a long breath and Skeppy relaxes in his hold. “Besides, I won’t let anything happen to you.”Skeppy trusts him.OR: Dream is back and Skeppy is very annoyed that the rogue vampire won't let him enjoy his quality time with Bad - his best friend and Lord of the Undead.Sequel to: Ruby in the Moonlight
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson, Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed & Technoblade, Zak Ahmed & TommyInnit
Series: What Is Precious [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138133
Comments: 214
Kudos: 235





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I am so incredibly excited to be sharing this fic with you all! I have worked very hard on it and Silver and I have had an absolute blast coming up with the plotline for this one. I cannot wait to see y'all's reaction to it :))  
> As always, this fic is entirely prewritten. It is 23 chapters long, and just over 50k, and will be published daily (as long as I don't forget!!).
> 
> "Diamond in the Rough" is written as part of the series Silver and I are writing, "What is Precious", and takes place in the same Vampire AU.  
> It is a direct continuation of "Ruby in the Moonlight" (like it picks up a few weeks after the end of Ruby) but follows Skeppy's point of view. I 100% recommend having read Ruby first before you dive into Diamond so that the universe is already established for you. However, Silver and I have worked on a quick summary of Ruby as a refresher for you all :))
> 
> \---  
> Spoiler Alert for Ruby in the Moonlight, obviously
> 
> Previously on: What is Precious--  
> Tommy is taken from the orphanage by the mysterious Huntsman, Dream. Shortly after his apprenticeship began he finds himself in the lair of a vampire coven, one of whom was once his own brother, Wilbur. He soon realizes that vampires aren't what they seem. A vast majority are not bloodthirsty monsters, they actually prefer a quiet life.  
> Tommy's new peaceful life with Technoblade, Phil, and Wilbur is however endangered when Dream demands that he continue his apprenticeship. And his first lesson will be going undercover in the coven. Tommy is torn apart by his previous beliefs and his affection for his brother and his coven members. His introduction to the Demon and the Spirit, two powerful beings, convinces him that a life with the vampires might be preferable.  
> Only Dream isn't so keen to let him go and, while hunting with Phil, Wilbur ends up kidnapped, and Tommy sneaks back to the belly of the beast to save his brother. He discovers that Dream was a vampire and Techno's Sire all along. Things seem very bleak, but Tommy is saved at the very last moment by an intervention from one of the Spirit's creatures. Dream is imprisoned by the Spirit and guarded by the Huntsmen. Tommy is now free to begin his new life in peace.
> 
> ___
> 
> As I said, we pick up a few weeks after Dream's imprisonment, and from Skeppy's perspective. 
> 
> This first chapter is, however, written as a flashback and takes place a few decades before the events from Ruby :))
> 
> Enjoy!!!

There are a lot of myths about the Undead.

A lot of myths that George and Sapnap have spent years carefully studying, ingraining into their minds until it had become instinct. Until they had forgotten the name of their own mothers, but they could list the best ways to recognize, apprehend, and subdue a creature of darkness without even thinking about it.

One of those myths is about flowers and sleeping vampires.

They believe that it is all that it is, though. A myth. A legend. A tale that brave children repeat to each other before bedtime.

But all legends take their roots in truth, they should know so. They have met with the Spirit, the one that protects the life that runs through Nature and humanity. They have felt his all-knowing eyes on them, and they had let him initiate them into the Huntsmen. They should know that all legends hold a truth.

But they do not think. They find three black roses carefully placed on top of an ancient coffin, in the crypt they had been sent to explore, and they do not think. They behave like naïve and ingenuous children, who have for too long been kept away from the dangers of the Underworld.

They do not heed the Spirit’s warning about flowers and sleeping vampires.

And instead, they awaken him.

It’s a mistake. It’s the same mistake that humans commit when they look into ruby eyes and find themselves ready to give their life for an immortal creature.

It’s a grave mistake, though, because it is him.

He has been sleeping for centuries, lost to an uninterrupted slumber, and he was not meant to ever wake up again.

It is a fact of life – of death – that vampires are ephemeral in their immortality. They are not eternal like the Spirit and the Demon. They are not meant to remain forever. The most powerful ones walk the Earth for centuries, maybe millennia, but even they are not meant to stay. Eventually, they find themselves weary of walking the mortals’ realm, and they go to sleep. 

He had done so. He was not meant to be disturbed.

But they awaken him, because humans do not care what is meant to happen. They act on instincts, out of passion rather than reason, and this is what makes them so fascinating, so unique.

So they awaken him.

He blinks a few times before he turns his gaze onto the Huntsmen.

They should know better than to meet eyes with a vampire, but they do not think. The moment they see the glint of the ruby, they are gone.

“I was asleep,” he says in a tranquil tone, “I was asleep for a very long time. You disturbed my slumber.”

They would tremble in fear if they weren’t frozen in their spot by the sight of the ruby eyes.

The vampire smiles, soft and gentle and oh so dangerous, and he takes one of the roses in his incredibly pale hand. He caresses its petals and they wilt and detach from the stem almost instantly. His gaze follows their fall all the way to the floor.

“Flowers,” he says, and there’s a hint of insult in his tone, “- are ephemeral. I am not.”

He doesn't look at them, still. He plays with the stem of the flower, lets every petal fall, one by one, until the ground is covered in black petals.

"Some Hunter," he continues as if he hadn't interrupted himself, "thought that they could stop me from coming back." He chuckles quietly. "Mortals are foolish."

He finally looks up to them and his mouth curves into an amused smile at the sight of their mask and green robes.

"Oh, this is hilarious," he comments. He approaches them, a slow and graceful walk that does not produce a single sound. He brings the hand that does not hold the rose up and caresses the ceramic mask. He is feline in his movements and a predator in his eyes.

"I was going to kill you," he states in a velvet voice, all too gentle and almost purring, "But it wouldn't be fun, wouldn't you agree?"

His hand slides down from the mask, caresses one of the Huntsmen's throat, and dances its way to his arm. He takes the wrist between gentle, cold fingers and holds it up to his face. There's hunger in his eyes now. He brings the rose stem to the wrist and uses a thorn to draw blood. He smiles, carnal and excited. The blood makes a small little red pearl that grows slowly, under the vampire's hungry eyes, until it has grown too much and implodes on itself, forming a red line that runs down the Huntsman's arm, down to his hand, and then to the floor, dripping slowly onto the black petals.

"You've done me a great favor," he says, "For that, I shall grant you one in return.” His eyes finally look up from the dripping blood and onto their masked expressions of fear. “The highest of honors.” He looks between them, and his smile stretches, displaying his sharpened canines, “You will be ever at my right and left hands.”

* * *

Decades later, George and Sapnap are no longer by Dream’s side, because he has been locked into one of the most secure cells on the planet. The Spirit is holding him prisoner, punishing him for daring to defy him and the Demon, and for having touched a human that they put under their protection. 

Dream is away - their Sire is away - and so George and Sapnap feel lost. They do not remember how to exist without Dream, without his guidance and his instructions. They don’t know how to survive as vampires without him. They don’t know how to survive without him in general.

They remember a world before Dream - a world before blood and before darkness - but it feels foreign. It feels impossible. They need Dream. They need their Sire’s presence as much as they need blood to survive. 

They barely remember the outside world. The way the sun felt on their skin is forbidden, obviously, but even the moonshine feels like a foreign concept. They had seen it, some times, when Dream had agreed to accompany them outside to teach them how to hunt humans. But mostly, they had spent their time in obscurity, protected from the world. Safe, under Dream’s protection, under his control. He would bring them victims, still alive, still whining and begging, and they would drink gratefully. He provided for them, as Sires must, and they obeyed him, as fledglings should.

They’re alone, in the dark, and they’re afraid. They need Dream.

They’re angry. Dream was taken away from them. They want him back. 

So they search each other’s face, they look into each other’s ruby eyes, and they gain comfort in each other’s presence. They arm themselves and, without a word, they decide that they will free their Sire. That they need to defy the creature who taught them everything. 

They head to the headquarters of the Order.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap’s small smile is so unlike him, so unlike Sapnap’s normal grin, and his voice is too low and dangerous.  
> “Where is he.”  
> It’s not a question, it’s an order.  
> Sam doesn’t respond, doesn’t bother intervening, and he simply moves his head very lightly. His eyes bore into a particular Huntsman, no different from any other.  
> The Huntsman must feel the stare because he stands up tall and, like Sapnap has done, he removes his mask.  
> Ant curses at the sight of a man – an Undead creature – who should be locked into the Order’s most secure cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I wanted to thank you all for the enthusiasm for the first chapter!! :)) I'm so excited to share more today! We are still very much in the introductory stage, and we follow Antfrost's POV for this chapter. 
> 
> Warning: minor character death (not big enough to warrant a tag, but y'all deserve the heads up!)
> 
> Enjoy!!

The headquarters are quiet today, and so are the Undead. It reminds Ant of the few days that followed Dream’s arrest, when the entire Underworld withdrew into silence as if they, too, had been shocked by the happenings.

The Demon had been there when Sam had come back from the vampire’s mansion, in the meeting room that had unofficially become his, and he had rushed to the other’s side to speak in hushed voices. Sam had been reassuring, gentle even, and they had spoken for a very long time, in a language none of the Huntsmen understood, until Bad had finally nodded. He had smiled at Ant and the few other Huntsmen that belonged to  _ his _ world. They had bowed their heads in respect. Then, Bad had grabbed Skeppy’s hand - bringing the Huntsmen’s attention to the human’s presence, and they had disappeared.

And then, nothing more was said of Dream.

The Undead had been quiet for a while, but a Huntsman’s job is never fully done, and the Undead don’t rest forever. So, life – or death – had started again, and they had all dived back into their work, into their mission, and Sam had retreated back into the Glade.

The headquarters are quiet today, though. Not with the same exhaustion that had followed Dream’s arrest, but the astonishment is pretty similar. The Huntsmen, stare, amazed, at faces they thought they would never see again.

“George?” Ant calls in a low voice, almost fearing that pronouncing their name would make them disappear, the way it sometimes happens in children’s tales, “Sapnap?”

Sapnap’s face is hidden under the traditional Huntsman mask, but George's isn’t – he is just wearing a pair of dark glasses, and Ant can see the smile that stretches across his lips.

“Hey Ant,” he says, and Ant feels like he could start crying. It has been decades since the two Huntsmen hadn’t returned from their mission and had been declared dead, though their body had been nowhere to be found. They had all assumed that some particularly vicious beast had gotten to them and devoured them whole. Ant had grieved with difficulty, but he had eventually accepted the loss of his two best friends.

“It’s been- It’s been so long,” he whispers, and he raises a shaking hand to reach for them.

He doesn’t think about the fact that it has been  _ too _ long, and that George shouldn’t look the exact same he had when Ant had last seen him. He doesn’t think about the fact that Sapnap’s figure is still as strong and healthy as it had always been, even though it should be showing signs of aging. He doesn’t think about it, because his best friends are back.

He looks around to his companions, recognizing the ones that were around when George and Sapnap had been one of theirs by the clear shock and excitement in their posture.

“We have- we have to go get him,” someone says, but no one moves.

Sapnap looks around, stretches his entire body, the way he had always done, and he visibly sets his eyes on one of the Huntsmen.

“Punz!” he exclaims, moving quickly to embrace the vampire. That’s right, Punz was one of theirs, one that had been initiated at the same time as them, though he had been around the Order for much longer, as vampire Huntsmen always are. They have to earn Sam’s trust the way humans never have to.

They had been initiated the same day, though. Ant, Velvet, Punz, George, and Sapnap had all promised to protect humanity and the balance between the Living and the Dead. The Spirit had smiled upon them all and agreed to let them officially join the Order. 

They had been friends, forged in training, in fighting the Undead, and in saving one another’s life over and over again. 

So Ant isn’t surprised that Punz is greeted with so much excitement. Sapnap’s arms wrap around his friend and, suddenly, Sam is there. Ant didn’t see him appear, but again, he never does. Sam simply  _ is  _ there. He wears his humanoid body, and his shoulders are extremely tense. He doesn’t speak, but Ant hears the order for everyone to get away from the newcomers,  _ now _ . They all do, and the Huntsmen look around each other in confusion.

And then, Ant looks back to Sapnap and Punz, at the exact right second. At the exact wrong second. He sees a cloud of dust in Sapnap’s arms, and the ashes that fall slowly onto the floor, the only proof that Punz once walked this world with them.

And before Ant can even identify which type of weapon Sapnap is holding, George is behind him, a cold arm encircling his waist. There’s a small wooden stake poking right against his heart, and Ant freezes completely. George is about to kill him.

George.

One of his oldest friends.

Whom he thought was dead.

He looks at the cold, pale arm that holds him immobile, and he lets out a shuddering breath. George is too pale. Way too pale. And even though George’s chest is against his back, Ant cannot feel a heartbeat.

George should be dead.

George would be better off dead.

Sapnap chuckles, dusting his hands off the ashes of their friend, and he removes his mask. His face is too pale, and his eyes are red rubies.

Oh Prime.

Sapnap’s small smile is so unlike him, so unlike Sapnap’s normal grin, and his voice is too low and dangerous.

“Where is he.”

It’s not a question, it’s an order.

Sam doesn’t respond, doesn’t bother intervening, even though Ant is seconds away from sharing Punz’s fate, and he simply moves his head very lightly. His eyes bore into a particular Huntsman, no different from any other.

The Huntsman must feel the stare because he stands up tall and, like Sapnap has done, he removes his mask.

Ant curses at the sight of a man – an Undead creature – who should be locked into the Order’s most secure cell.

“I had this one under control,” Dream says, looking down at the remains of what used to be Punz. “But you two  _ had _ to be possessive.” Sapnap laughs, low and deranged, and Ant doesn’t know how he could have believed, for a second, that this was his friend.

“You don’t need anyone but us,” The vampire hums in response and he removes the green cloak, throwing it carelessly behind him. Sapnap sneers but does not protest as he catches the cloak. He drapes it on top of Punz’s ashes, as if it would make them all forget that the Huntsman ever existed.

“George,” Dream calls, and the man behind Ant stiffens at the sound of his voice. “What are you waiting for? Kill him.”

The stake pushes into his chest and Ant exchanges a desperate look with Velvet who hasn’t jumped in only because another Huntsman is holding him back - protecting him from what they know would be certain death. 

“Don’t.” Sam’s voice booms, and George comes to a still. He might have become a vampire, but Sam still commands respect, even from the Undead. Ant lets out a shuddering breath as the Spirit takes a step forward.

Instead of cowering in front of the being that swore to protect humanity, Dream raises his head toward him, defiant, and Ant feels like he might just faint.

“They aren’t Thralled,” Sam points out. It is not a question; he knows it.

Dream chuckles, and Ant feels his blood curdle in his vein.

“No. They are mine.”

The words must have some meaning that Ant does not understand because George lets him go almost instantly and instead walks to Dream, calm and subdued. Dream brings a hand towards the smaller man – towards Ant’s friend – and he caresses his cheek like George is nothing but a pet. George closes his eyes and lets out a purring-like sound.

“You had no rights to take them,” Sam declares, and he takes another step forward, “These two were under my protection.”

Dream sneers at him and he makes a small movement that has Sapnap join him immediately, standing to his right while George leans into Dream on his left.

Ant no longer has a stake about to be driven through his body, but the scene in front of him is perhaps more excruciating.

“I am getting very tired of yours and Bad’s rules,” Dream says slowly, in a velvety voice that has all of the humans look up. There is no eye contact, so it is not enough to trigger a Thrall, but it is almost potent enough to do so. Ant shudders. The vampire is extremely powerful, he realizes - too powerful for a simple Huntsman to apprehend him. “I think things need to change.”

“I think that you should leave,” Sam responds, very calm, and Ant swallows thickly at the threat in the Spirit’s voice. “This area is mine. You are not permitted to be here.”

Dream scoffs but he does not fight it. He takes a few steps toward the exit in that graceful gait that only old vampires have perfectly mastered. Sapnap and George follow him without a word, without a look to Ant, their oldest friend, who had spent years mourning their death.

He wishes they were dead.

It would be much better.

“Dream,” the Spirit’s voice booms as the three vampires are about to pass the door. Ant turns back to see Sam missing from the spot where he had been standing. Instead, he is right in the middle of the doorway, all alone in front of Dream and his coven. Vulnerable, and yet fearless. “Do not touch the boy.”

Dream laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry for your mortal and his traitorous family,” he says, “I had my fun with him. But I also had a lot of time to think.” He smiles, almost cordially, and it is beyond terrifying. “He is safe from me.”

It seems like it was all Sam wanted, because he is gone the next second. Ant lets out an exhale and, as if the Spirit’s presence was all that kept them from moving, the headquarters starts bustling again. Velvet is behind Ant, arms grabbing onto his shoulders, his whole body shaking. Some of the Huntsmen are moving toward the green cloak and the ashes below it. Others, the most daring ones, look toward the door.

Ant does too. He won’t move, not with the way Velvet is holding onto him like a lifeline, but he needs to see.

There is nothing to be seen, though.

Dream and his coven are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. 
> 
> Dream is free now.   
> We shall turn our focus to Bad and Skeppy tomorrow! Very excited about that!
> 
> Can't wait to see what y'all thought!! :)) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hand,” Bad demands, and Skeppy beams.  
> It’s always like that. Even if Skeppy is the one harassing Bad until the demon cracks and buys him whatever he’s been asking for, at the end of the day, Bad presents it like an offering he would make to a deity. Even if Skeppy is a mortal and Bad the Lord of the Undead.  
> Skeppy gives him his hand and Bad smiles, soft and gentle, and he takes it tenderly and caresses the small precious stones that have started growing on the mortal’s skin. None of them are as bright and beautiful as the first diamond Bad gave him - his diamond, the one that means that Bad is Skeppy’s, as much as Skeppy is Bad’s, but they still shine prettily on Skeppy’s skin, and they show the world that he is Bad’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> My apologies for the late upload! Here is the third chapter, and our first encounter with Bad and Skeppy!
> 
> Enjoy!!

“Baaaaad, I really like this one!”

Bad sighs and looks down at the diamond ring that Skeppy is holding. Skeppy gives him a beaming smile, as if it would soften him. It will, Skeppy knows it, it always does.

“Skeppy,” the demon says, massaging his temple with two fingers, “You have enough to wear a different ring on each finger of your two hands, every day, for three years.”

Skeppy pouts: “I don’t have this one, though.”

Bad lets out another sigh – a defeated one this time – and he takes the ring from Skeppy’s hand and walks to the seller.

Skeppy isn’t too certain what glamour the demon has chosen today but he doesn’t care too much. Bad never hides his appearance from him – not when Skeppy is the one that convinced him to keep it like this, rather than mimic Sam and retreat in less comprehensible forms. Sam likes his deer form, and Bad enjoys being a feline, but Skeppy prefers his best friend when he can see his smile - and when he can observe his facial expressions for signs that he is  _ winning _ .

Winning like he just did, judging by the fact that Bad is walking back with a little box and an annoyed yet fond look.

“I don’t imagine that you want to just bring it home, do you?” Skeppy makes grabby hands at him and Bad lets out a chuckle, taking the diamond ring out of the box. “Hand,” he demands, and Skeppy beams.

It’s always like that. Even if Skeppy is the one harassing Bad until the demon cracks and buys him whatever he’s been asking for, at the end of the day, Bad presents it like an offering he would make to a deity. Even if Skeppy is a mortal and Bad the Lord of the Undead.

Skeppy gives him his hand and Bad smiles, soft and gentle, and he takes it tenderly and caresses the small precious stones that have started growing on the mortal’s skin. None of them are as bright and beautiful as the first diamond Bad gave him -  _ his diamond _ , the one that means that Bad is Skeppy’s, as much as Skeppy is Bad’s, but they still shine prettily on Skeppy’s skin, and they show the world that he is Bad’s. 

Bad carefully slips the new ring on Skeppy’s index finger.

“There,” he whispers, and there’s adoration in his voice, “It suits you.”

Skeppy smiles as he looks down at his hand, soft and content. Every jewel Bad puts there is yet another sign of his undying affection, and every glimmer of the gemstones makes Skeppy’s heart feel a bit lighter.

“You should buy some for yourself, sometimes,” he suggests, with the tone of a man who knows he has already lost the argument. It is one they have had many times before.

“Nah,” Bad responds, and he waves the question off “I don’t see the value in those material things.”

“But you like giving them to me,” Skeppy answers, completely certain. Bad smiles back at him, a grin that many would see as threatening but Skeppy only sees as warm and happy, and his white eyes glow.

“I do,” the demon confirms, “I really do, Skeppy.”

And Prime, does he. Once Bad gave him his first diamond -  _ the diamond _ \- he started covering him with many more precious stones. First they were jewelry pieces, meant only to come as complements to the diamond, to hide it in their brightness, and to keep it safe. Soon, though, they became offerings, tributes to Bad’s love. 

And Bad is an incredibly powerful demon, so his choice to constantly shower a human in gemstones ended up manifesting the very real diamonds that continue appearing on Skeppy’s skin, a little more numerous every day. Skeppy should be afraid of it, should feel scared that he is losing his humanity, but Bad looks at every stone with so much fondness that Skeppy learns to cherish them as much as he does the demon.

Skeppy smiles and he takes a step forward to lean a little against Bad’s shoulder, relieved that the demon has adopted a height close to his, rather than the gigantic one he likes so much.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles while he feels Bad’s arms wrap around him protectively – maybe possessively, “What’s next on our plans?”

“You wanted to go to the port to see the ships,” Bad reminds him in a gentle voice, “But we can go back, if you prefer.”

Skeppy hums in thoughts. He did want to see the ships, but the port will still be here tomorrow. And the day after. And the week after. And in a few centuries too. Time with Bad is meaningless and precious all the same. As long as it is with Bad, Skeppy enjoys it.

Most of Bad’s Undead don’t bother looking at him – and Bad is rather satisfied with it; he tends to be possessive of Skeppy, sometimes snarls when he notices hungry eyes on Skeppy’s figure. Most of the Undead have been dead for too long to recognize the clear anomaly in time. Skeppy has been around for way too long, and yet his heart is still beating, his cheeks are still rosy with life, and his face is devoid of wrinkles or any other marks of aging. Time hasn’t had an effect on him, not ever since Bad laid his claim on him.

Bad’s Undead don’t notice it, though, because most have lost their understanding of time, and those who haven’t don’t care enough. They should. It would be wise of them to acknowledge the mortal whom the ruler of the Underworld claimed as his, as his most precious possession. Those who notice, those who are still awake enough to see it, choose not to comment. Maybe they are too afraid of Bad’s tremendous power and authority to dare question his decision to essentially keep a small mortal as a pet.

Sam knows. Of course, he does. The Spirit seems All-Knowing – even if Skeppy knows, from somewhere deep in his chest, that it is not all that easy. The Spirit knows only what the Demon allows him to know, and conversely. And, for some reason, Bad chose to let Sam know. Skeppy doesn’t ask, doesn’t question Bad’s decision to let his oldest friend – his oldest enemy – know about them. But that doesn’t mean he enjoys the way Sam’s intelligent gaze follows him around, when he and Bad meet, a spark of laughter illuminating the green eyes.

The problem isn’t that Sam knows, it is that Sam visibly finds it amusing. Highly entertaining.

But Sam never asks, never comments; he just laughs with his eyes when Skeppy moves to sit next to Bad, or when Bad nuzzles into Skeppy’s neck. And since Sam doesn’t ask, Bad also does not mention the fact that Sam never retrieved the Nook from Tommy’s possession, even after Dream had been put where he couldn’t do any more harm.

They’re weirdos, the two of them.

A small squeeze around his body makes Skeppy look up to Bad.

“Skeppy?” the demon asks patiently, “Do you prefer going home?” Skeppy shrugs a little and he moves away from Bad’s embrace – feels the way the demon’s arms chase after him for a fraction of a second.

“Yeah, I guess,” he says, giving a small yawn and stretching. He notices Bad’s amused look when some of the jewelry falls to the ground at the movement. Neither of them makes an attempt to collect them, but Skeppy knows that they will be by his bedside tonight. “Can we cuddle?”

Bad chuckles at that, a low and gentle chuckle that has nothing to do with the dangerous laugh that he sometimes lets out when he is in one of his  _ moods _ , when he wants to remind the Undead why he rules the Underworld. “Yeah, Skeppy,” he says with so much affection in his voice, “Yeah, we can cuddle.”

“Then we can go home.”

Bad closes his eyes for a second and, when he opens them again, there are wings on his back. Skeppy grins at the sight. He loves flying with Bad! He rushes back to his best friend’s side, noticing the way Bad has changed his height again, readopting the gigantic size he prefers. Strong but gentle arms collect Skeppy and the mortal nestles against Bad’s chest, completely safe and trusting.

“Home?” Bad smiles.

“Home.” He goes to close his eyes, to wait for Bad to take flight, but nothing happens. There’s no flapping sound, no winds in his hair, no sudden movement. Nothing.

Skeppy frowns a little and opens his eyes, looking up to Bad’s frozen face. Wait.

“Bad?” he calls, but Bad doesn’t look at him, which is sign number one that something is wrong, because Bad  _ never ever _ fails to look at him when he calls him. Even if he is locked in a very important discussion with some of the most powerful creatures of darkness, or even if he is presiding over a meeting, or even if he is speaking business with Sam and his Huntsmen. Bad never fails to look at him. He tugs on the demon’s arms to catch his attention. “Bad!”

Bad still doesn’t look down; his eyes are still focused on  _ whatever _ he is looking at that’s apparently more important than Skeppy and cuddles. He moves one hand and presses it on top of Skeppy’s head, holding him there lightly. But his white eyes are still not on him.

Instead, they are on one of Sam’s little wooden creatures. The being chatters rapidly, conveying words and information that Skeppy does not have the wish or the care to understand. Bad’s gaze hardens and his hold on Skeppy tightens ever so slightly as the Nook continues its agitated speech.

“Skeppy,” Bad says very slowly, in this low voice of him, the one that belongs to the ruler of the Underworld, “I’m taking you home. I have to see Sam.”

“No!” Skeppy protests, “This was my afternoon! You said you would spend time with me!”

“Skeppy,” the demon sighs.

“You don’t have to be at his beck and call! You’re as powerful as him!” – More powerful, Skeppy thinks – “Whatever it is, he can figure it out himself.”

“Skeppy.” This is no longer an attempt at calming him down; it is a warning. “That’s enough. I have to meet with Sam.”

Skeppy pouts, petulant and upset, but at least Bad is paying attention to him, and not to Nook anymore. “Then bring me with you.”

Bad grimaces, clearly not liking the idea, and his grip tightens a little more.

“Skeppy, I don’t know if-”

“You always bring me with you,” Skeppy insists, “Why does it have to be different?”

Bad’s lips twist into a frown. “One of mine passed,” he says, and Skeppy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. The Undead fall every day, this is not abnormal. Bad never has any qualm about one of his subjects dying for the second time. It is just a fact of life and death, an exchange between Sam and Bad, to keep the balance of the world. Bad steals some of Sam’s livings and, in exchange, Sam ensures that the Undead do not become too much of a danger to his humans. It is simply a part of the agreement between them.

“And what?” Skeppy asks, “Were the Hunters not allowed to touch this one?” Bad tenses around Skeppy.

“That’s the problem,” he says, “He was killed by one of his brethren.”

Well. This is less common, but it is not unheard of. The creatures of the night are territorial, especially vampires, and it is not too rare for some infighting to happen if one of them decides to assert his dominance over a larger group. It sometimes annoys Bad, to have to deal with his less reasonable subjects, but it is no reason for alarm.

“Bad,” Skeppy protests in a weaker voice, “I don’t like when you’re being all mysterious and dramatic.” Besides, he will find out some day. Skeppy isn’t certain how it works, but some of Bad’s memories and knowledge become his – yet another thing that they share. He will find out one day, he just needs patience.

But Skeppy isn’t patient.

He tugs at Bad’s sleeve until the demon lets out a long sigh.

“Dream is free.”

Dream? Skeppy scrunches his nose. The rogue vampire that had tried to hurt some of Skeppy’s favorite Undead? The one who apparently Sired Techno and left him for dead that very same night? The one who had disobeyed Bad’s orders not to touch those that Sam claimed as his? He makes a small pout. He had been certain that the vampire had been dealt with, and that Bad would be free to focus on Skeppy again.

Not that he had been very worried. A rogue vampire, after all, does not hold nearly enough power to go after powerful beings like Bad or Sam.

But they had needed to meet with Techno and his coven, and Bad had wanted to check on the kid and ensure his safety before reassuring the people who would eventually claim him as one of theirs.

And there had been the meeting with Sam, where Bad had argued that Dream, as an Undead, was under his authority and jurisdiction, and Sam had responded that the vampire had tried to hurt one of  _ his _ , which made his claim to punish the vampire as legitimate as Bad’s. They had debated for a few hours until Bad had given up, waved the whole argument off, and taken Skeppy home.

Dream wasn’t a problem, per se, he was mostly an annoyance.

And apparently, he is not done annoying Skeppy and depriving him of his quality time with Bad.

That’s a pain.

A pain in the neck.

“And what?” Skeppy asks, “What about him? You and Sam agreed that he wasn’t your responsibility.”

Bad shakes his head, and Skeppy wishes that his best friend was a bit more like what the children describe the Demon as: a selfish creature of violence who ignores everything but its own interests and spends eternity tormenting the livings. A being of darkness who spends every day of its eternal existence defying the Spirit, fighting for control of the world.

But Bad is a gentle person, and the time of his  _ disagreement _ with Sam is long past. Skeppy hadn’t been around then, but he  _ knows _ about the terrible violence that had broken out between the two and about the battle that had lasted centuries. But it’s over, and now Bad works  _ with _ Sam, rather than against him, even if they have every reason to come head-to-head. Even if they are meant to be in a constant conflict between the Living and the Dead.

If Skeppy’s best friend was a little bit more of the Demon and a bit less  _ Bad _ , maybe he would just tell Sam to deal with his own problems himself. And maybe he would just take Skeppy away. But Bad is kind and caring, and maybe this is why Skeppy loves him so much. But Prime if it isn’t annoying right now.

“I have to see him, Skeppy,” Bad sighs, and Skeppy pouts, disappointed.

“Then let me come,” he asks – begs. Bad presses his lips together and Skeppy moves to grab his hand. It is too big for Skeppy to easily intertwine their fingers, but he is at least going to try. “Bad,” he insists, “Come on.”

“It won’t be a pleasant visit,” Bad says, and Skeppy knows he’s won.

“Will Sam make me wait with the Hunters again?” he asks, and Bad shakes his head, his hold on Skeppy tightening possessively.

“No,” he replies, “He knows better.”

Skeppy smiles. Yeah. The Spirit knows better than to try to separate them. The one time he had, Skeppy had set traps all around the headquarters and Bad had been unable to focus for the entire duration of the meeting.

And well, Bad had also been  _ unpleasant _ . That was the word Sam had used in his diplomatic tone, but Skeppy had seen the claw marks on the desk and he had smelt the sulfur in the air.

Sam hadn’t asked for Skeppy to wait outside again.

“So you won’t make me go home?”

Bad shakes his head in what he wants to be an exasperated manner. Skeppy sees through the act though. Bad is happy he is coming.

“You are impossible,” the demon says.

“You love me.”

Bad doesn’t dignify that with an answer, but Skeppy knows it anyway. He shifts a little in the demon’s arms.

“Are we flying there?” he asks, and Bad just looks back at the Nook.

“I don’t think we need to,” he responds.

The Nook gives an enthusiastic nod and the holes that have been carved into his face to look like eyes illuminate with green energy. Skeppy blinks and they are in Sam’s Glade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very excited to see what y'all thought!! :))
> 
> Tomorrow, we get more Bad and Skeppy, and some instances of Sam :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam bores his eyes into Bad’s. “You have taken two of mine.”  
> Bad tenses behind Skeppy and a hand falls on his shoulder, squeezing it in a comforting manner. Skeppy doesn’t know if it is for his or Bad’s sake.  
> “You know I haven’t,” the demon chuckles.  
> Sam scoffs, as if the details truly didn’t matter. “Fine. One of yours did.”  
> Skeppy cranes his neck to look at Bad’s reaction, at the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly, at the way his breath comes a little shallower.  
> “You took responsibility for him. He isn’t mine anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> We return right where we left off, in the Glade. And we even get to meet Sam today!! :)) 
> 
> This chapter gives more information about the Agreement between the Spirit and the Demon. I'm super excited to tell y'all more about this!!
> 
> Enjoy!!

Skeppy jumps out of Bad’s arms and onto the mossy ground, confident that neither beings would let him come into harm’s way. He is right; the moss seems to expand a little when his feet touch the ground, and he feels a little less heavy.

He doesn’t turn to look at Bad, but he knows that his friend’s eyes are glowing. And well, there is Sam too. Skeppy catches the being’s intelligent eyes and observes as the gigantic deer moves forward, ever so grateful. For every step he takes, flowers sprout under his hooves. Birds tweet around his antlers, playing around as if they were nothing but tree branches. The deer reaches him and inclines his head very slowly. Skeppy blinks and bows his head at him. He feels the overwhelming urge to extend his arm to try to touch the creature who swore to protect humanity. He does; he raises his arm a little, goes to touch the Spirit, and Bad coughs behind him.

Skeppy blinks a few times, turning to throw a glance at the demon before he looks back at Sam again. He isn’t a deer anymore, having taken his human form again. Skeppy breathes a sigh of relief. Sam’s human form, he can deal with. Even if the green eyes are still full of so much wisdom and care that it sometimes feels hard to breathe.

“I see you have brought the human once again,” Sam says, as if Skeppy’s presence had not become a given in the past several centuries. He nods at Skeppy, ever so solemn, “I am glad to see you in good health.”

Skeppy gives a nervous smile and he desperately wishes for Bad to be just a little closer, a comforting presence in his back. Instead, Bad watches from a few steps too far for Skeppy to like it. Sam won’t hurt him – he would never. Skeppy is one of the Livings, the ones Sam watches over and protects jealously, and he is under the Demon’s protection. Sam – or anyone else, for that matters – would never raise a hand against him. But still, the Spirit is awe-inspiring in a way that is innate, that Skeppy cannot control, cannot refuse.

But that doesn’t mean he has to show it.

“Sup?”

Sam’s lips curve into a smile and Skeppy’s heart flutters when he hears Bad’s snicker.

“Your human is… interesting,” Sam says in a calm tone, as if he hadn’t known that for centuries. Bad is behind Skeppy now, his protective presence towering over him.

“He is,” Bad replies, and there is so much fondness in his voice, “But you didn’t make me come to discuss Skeppy, did you?” Sam’s eyes find Skeppy again, and they look over him for a few long seconds, piercing, knowing, scrutinizing Skeppy’s soul itself.

“I am always happy to discuss your attachment to the Living,” he comments in a voice that sounds teasing but remains flat. How does he do that?

“Just this one,” Bad says, and Sam smiles knowingly.

“I know,” the Spirit affirms. And Skeppy truly believes that he does.

Then the smile falls from Sam’s lips, and it looks like the flowers are wilting around him. Skeppy blinks a few times and finds that nothing has changed. How does he  _ do that? _

Sam bores his eyes into Bad’s. “You have taken two of mine.”

Bad tenses behind Skeppy and a hand falls on his shoulder, squeezing it in a comforting manner. Skeppy doesn’t know if it is for his or Bad’s sake.

“You know I haven’t,” the demon chuckles.

Sam scoffs, as if the details truly didn’t matter. “Fine. One of yours did.”

Skeppy cranes his neck to look at Bad’s reaction, at the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly, at the way his breath comes a little shallower.

“You took responsibility for him. He isn’t mine anymore.”

Sam shakes his head. “Mine were taken decades ago. This was not a recent turn.” Bad blinks at him a few times before shrugging.

“You formed the Huntsmen, not me. You are responsible for chasing the rogue Undead.”

Sam’s eyes shine with something that could be a hint of anger and Skeppy is immediately petrified. The only thing that stops him from taking a step back is Bad’s firm, protective hand on his shoulder.

“You are meant to ensure that they do not rise to power, Bad,” Sam reminds him, “That is your part of the Agreement. Not mine.”

Bad’s eyes narrow a little more and he moves his hand off Skeppy’s shoulder.

“Skeppy,” he says in a cold tone, his eyes not leaving Sam’s, “You should go walk around the woods a little.” Skeppy takes a few steps away from the two beings but he doesn’t do as he was asked. He stares at Bad, uncertain what’s happening, except that it definitely is not good.

“Bad-” he tries, and Sam is the one who speaks, his voice much gentler and kinder than Bad’s had been.

“I think that Fran is in the clearing,” he says, “She will be overjoyed to see you.”

Skeppy doesn’t like it – he really hates it – but he recognizes a dismissal when he hears one. He glares at Bad (how dare he bring him all the way to Sam’s land only to send him away?) and stomps away.

He does find Fran in the clearing, as Sam had promised. She growls at him at first, like she always does when she smells him. She can sense Bad on him. Bad’s paradoxical claim over a Living, one that should be Sam’s. He smells like he mixes with the Undead every day, so it makes sense that Sam’s dog doesn’t trust his scent.

“Hey girl,” he says gently, and he offers his hand to her. She snarls a little until she sees the diamonds on his skin, the one thing that allows her to recognize him. The original one - Bad’s diamond - is hidden on his chest, right against his heart, but the ones that sprouted afterward cover his body, and especially his arms. She sniffs a little at his hand before she relaxes fully and allows him to pet her.

He smiles and buries his hand in the fur of the oldest dog in the world. She is ancient – not as old as Sam and Bad, of course, but older than he is. She has seen the first civilizations and was among the first wolves who allowed themselves to be tamed. But she wasn’t tamed by a human; she was tamed by their protector.

She’s a bit like him, in a way. She gained the favor of an immortal being and now she will be by his side forever, or until she eventually becomes irrelevant. Skeppy doesn’t want to think of Bad ever becoming bored of him – he doesn’t know what he would become without the demon, not when he is slowly but surely abandoning his humanity for him. 

He doesn’t see it happening, though, not when he holds the most precious thing to Bad, embedded in his chest. Not when Bad entrusted him with it. But he still doesn’t like thinking of that possibility. So he doesn’t think of it. He caresses Fran and he plays with her until she gets tired and curls up by his side.

She sleeps and he waits.

He waits for what seems like hours – what might be only minutes, or what could be days; time isn’t normal in Sam’s forest. He looks up to the very top of the trees and wonders if the wind that blows through the leaves is real or if it is something that Sam manifested. They are inside a building after all. They are, and yet they are outside.

This place makes no sense.

He listens to the birds and observes the family of deer that passes through the clearing. Those aren’t Sam, and yet they are Sam’s. It’s weird.

Skeppy doesn’t understand everything about the Spirit’s abilities, he just knows that he is most potent right here, at the center of his power. He knows Bad can’t defy him here. He hopes he doesn’t. The two beings had not seemed happy with each other, but again, they are not meant to collaborate the way they do.

Sam is smart, though, and he had been the one to suggest that idea, after the two of them had spent centuries battling over the control of the earth. Sam had won – by sheer luck, and Bad had been ready to crawl back into the Underworld and prepare his revenge, but Sam had proposed peace instead.

Peace had made no sense, not in the context of violence, and war, and fighting tooth and nail for every soul that passed from Sam’s protection to Bad’s. It made no sense. And yet, the beings had made it work. It was reasonable, and it was the only way to prevent total annihilation. The two beings, the oldest creatures in the world, would end up killing one another. It was simply fate.

So they found an arrangement. An agreement. They went against nature and against their most innate knowledge, and they decided that balance could be kept through cooperation rather than fighting.

It makes no sense, but they make it work.

Their cooperation is fragile, but it’s better than the alternative, so Bad and Sam keep it intact, and Skeppy trusts them to protect it as much as they protect their own subjects.

Even if Sam had seemed mad today, he will never be as mad as he was when the Great War started, and even if Bad had seemed defensive, he knows that he risks losing Skeppy if he chooses to break the peace.

They won’t fight.

They don’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FRAN :D 
> 
> Poor Skeppy got a bad case of "the adults are talking." But at least he gets to pet Fran. So who gets the better end of the deal?
> 
> Super excited to see y'all's reaction to this chapter! :))
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad lets go of him and Skeppy drops on the cold stones of Bad’s underground base. Their base. Their home.  
> It’s a cold and dark place, the one Bad had earned after the Great War - the one in which he had crawled after losing the last battle, and the one in which he had started to prepare his revenge, before Sam had proposed the Agreement.  
> It is cold and dark, but it feels warmer and more welcoming than Sam’s forest. There are no birds singing, no sun peeking through the trees, and yet Skeppy loves it so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Here is chapter 5! We are progressing nicely! This chapter, we get some quiet aftermath of Bad and Sam's discussion, and Skeppy gets his cuddles! :))
> 
> Enjoy!!

Bad comes to pick him up after what seems like an eternity. He is more relaxed, more subdued, and he gives Skeppy a tired smile.

“Ready?” he asks, holding out a hand. Skeppy grabs it and jumps to his feet.

“Yeah,” he says, tapping his clothes a little to get rid of the leaves that had fallen there. He looks up to Bad’s white eyes, notices the exhaustion there, “Are we good?” he questions. “Are you two good?”

Bad smiles, tired but confident. The tension has left his shoulders, and there’s just a profound weariness there. Skeppy doesn’t ask how long they had spoken, or how upset they had been. He will know, one day.

“Yes,” Bad says, “We are good.”

Skeppy lets the demon wrap his arms around him and lift him off the ground. He nestles against Bad’s chest, where he knows it is safe, and where he will best be kept from the cold gusts of wind.

Bad’s arms tighten around him securely, and they are off. Skeppy closes his eyes, takes in the feeling of flying, the uncomfortable yet exhilarating drops in his stomach whenever Bad fails to flap his wings for a little too long, the freshness of the air, and the knowledge that Bad will keep him safe whatever happens. 

He loves flying because he knows that he is the sole center of Bad’s attention for the entire time. He normally is, of course - he always is - but being in the air means that they are all alone in the world, and that no one will interrupt their time together. 

It is over too soon, as it always is. Bad lets go of him and Skeppy drops on the cold stones of Bad’s underground base. Their base. Their home. 

It’s a cold and dark place, the one Bad had earned after the Great War - the one in which he had crawled after losing the last battle, and the one in which he had started to prepare his revenge, before Sam had proposed the Agreement. 

It is cold and dark, but it feels warmer and more welcoming than Sam’s forest. There are no birds singing, no sun peeking through the trees, and yet Skeppy loves it so much more.

He yawns, stretching a little, and looks at Bad, noticing that his friend has reduced his height once again.

“How much time did you spend with Sam?” he asks. What time is it? Do they still have time to go watch the ships?

Bad shrugs. “A few hours I think.”

Skeppy deflates. The day is going to be over soon, and then the Undead will start crawling out of their holes and Bad will have to turn his focus onto something else than him.

“Okay,” he pouts, crossing his arms, “I wanted to spend more time with you.”

There’s a note of regret and guilt in Bad’s voice. “Oh, Skeppy,” he begins, “I’m sorry, I can-”

Skeppy sees the way Bad is already trying to think of every way he can delegate his own duties, of everything he could do with Skeppy, to make amends for the wasted afternoon.

“Nah,” he says, “It’s fine. You got stuff to do, and I’m tired.”

Bad lets out a small distressed noise from the back of his throat, one that shows that he still feels guilty, that he still wants to wrap Skeppy in his arms and not let him go. But Skeppy said that he was tired, and Skeppy is still a mortal. He needs sleep and food to survive, the same way Bad seems to need Skeppy’s presence to remain sane.

Skeppy smiles at him and bumps their shoulders together.

“It’s fine,” he says again, a bit more genuinely this time, “I’ll just sleep a bunch, and then we can play some games of chess when I wake up?” Bad hums in agreement, and his tail flicks a little before it wraps around Skeppy’s wrist. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Now,” Skeppy says, “I’m going to go get my beauty sleep.” Bad giggles at the words and Skeppy feels his heart miss a beat. How can the Lord of the Undead, one of the most feared and respected beings in the world, be so adorable? “You do your…” He shrugs, “Your ruling over the Underworld thing.” Bad hums. “And I’ll see you when you’re done?”

It’s a question, but it is also not one. Skeppy knows Bad will seek him out as soon as he is done. He always does. They always find each other.

“Of course,” Bad confirms in that fond tone that he only adopts for him. He takes Skeppy’s hand and finds one area that is not covered by jewelry. He raises it to his face and presses cold lips on Skeppy’s warm skin in an adoring gesture. Bad’s eyes glow a bit brighter and a new diamond appears on Skeppy’s hand. “Sleep well,” the demon whispers.

Skeppy smiles at him, a bit softer now, and he reluctantly moves away. He doesn’t look at the new diamond on his skin, but he can feel it. Yet another gift from Bad, yet another step separating him from humanity.

Skeppy has no qualms about it.

He feels Bad’s eyes on him as he walks away and to one of the most secure rooms in the base, the one Bad made for him, the one Bad covered with jewels and every precious thing he could find and present as an offering to his favorite Living. Skeppy’s room.

He lets himself fall on the soft bed and sleep finds and claims him in a matter of seconds.

* * *

Skeppy’s sleep is disturbed a few hours later, when a purring black beast finds its way into his bed. Skeppy grumbles sleepily and stares at the gigantic panther as it quietly climbs onto the mattress and kneads a little against Skeppy’s chest. Its paw touches the diamond on Skeppy’s heart, and the human smiles fondly as he looks into the white glowing eyes.

“Hey, Bad,” he whispers. The creature – his best friend – lets out a purring sound in return and Skeppy shifts in his bed to let the beast curl up around him protectively. Bad’s dark fur is warm and comfortable, and his presence sings home and safety.

“How were the meetings?” Skeppy asks in a sleepy voice. He doesn’t want to know, not really, but he also wants to talk to Bad, wants to spend as much time with him as possible, even when he knows that they have all of eternity to spend together. It doesn’t seem enough.

 _Long_ , the panther rumbles, _I missed you_.

Skeppy hums, content, and he nests a little more against the feline, seeks every bit of warmth he can get from his best friend. Bad’s purr is a constant around him, a comforting sound that threatens to lull Skeppy back to sleep. He blinks a few times, content and warm in his best friend’s hold.

“What did you chat about?”

 _Nothing_ , Bad replies in that strange speech that only occurs when Bad is in his animalistic form and refuses to shift back into Skeppy’s favorite form. It resonates in Skeppy’s head and into the room, but the panther’s mouth does not move. _Boring. Not you._

Skeppy giggles and he turns to look at the beast, petting the fur gently as if the gigantic panther was nothing but a big cat. It is not too far from the truth, technically, because Bad immediately starts purring a bit louder, and the white eyes bore into Skeppy’s.

The mortal hesitates for a few instants. He licks his lips nervously before he speaks again.

“What about Dream?” he asks, “What did Sam say?”

Bad sighs and suddenly the panther is gone, and instead Skeppy is holding onto his best friend. There is a crease above Bad’s eyes – a worried crease that Skeppy detests – but the demon gives him a small reassuring smile.

“Dream is being an idiot,” he responds, “Not following my orders. Sam is going to send the Huntsmen after him so they can get him back to the vault.”

Skeppy holds a breath. “Is he going after Techno and his coven?”

Technoblade is Skeppy’s favorite vampire. He had been one of the only Undead _present_ enough to notice the lack of wrinkles on Skeppy’s face, after the first century he had spent by Bad’s side, and Techno had smirked in the Demon’s direction – a knowing glint in the red eyes.

He had also been one of the first Undead who had spoken to Skeppy, too. Really spoken, rather than cooed at him with a lustful or hungry light in their eyes. Instead, Techno had approached him during one of the Underworld receptions Bad sometimes likes to host, and he had sat down heavily next to him. Time had frozen for a second, as Bad’s furious eyes had turned to Techno, ready to destroy whoever dared touching _his_ mortal, but he had relaxed a little at the view of the old vampire. He had nodded slowly, and, though his narrowed eyes had never left Skeppy during the entire evening, he hadn’t intervened. Another vampire – Techno’s fledging – had also kept his eyes on the discussion, his focus solely on his Sire, but he hadn’t moved to interrupt it.

Both Skeppy and Techno had ignored the pair of eyes observing them, and they had held their first conversation. The first one had been caused by Techno’s curiosity only, and by the fascination Skeppy apparently inspired him. Their second conversation, a few years later, had been similar in nature. Simply a way for Techno to learn more about why the Lord of the Undead had decided to claim one of the Spirit’s as his own. Their third discussion had been more friendly, and Skeppy had started being curious, too. Technoblade was gaining in renown, and so was the vampire that followed him more loyally than most coven members did their sire. His name was Phil, Skeppy had learned, and he was Techno’s family.

So Skeppy had started talking about his family too, about the vague memories he had from the time _before Bad_ – memories that he has now completely lost – and about the way Bad had become his family. Techno had listened intently, but his curiosity had faded to leave room for genuine interest. They had exchanged stories about their world, they had joked together, and Skeppy had taught Techno how to play chess. And so their friendship had started.

Techno is Skeppy’s favorite vampire. He doesn’t want anything to happen to him, or his. He knows that Bad is aware of that fact, and he notices the way the demon keeps a careful eye on Techno’s coven – much more careful than he does any other covens – and he feels grateful for it.

“No,” Bad says finally, “They are safe. Dream told Sam that he isn’t interested in going after them anymore.”

Skeppy relaxes in Bad’s arms and he allows himself to let out a relieved sigh. Techno and his coven are safe. That’s what matters.

“So what does he want?” Skeppy asks in a murmur. He feels sleepy again; he can feel Bad’s breath on his neck and he is so comfortable, nestled against the demon. Bad shrugs in answer, and this dislodges them slightly, causing Skeppy to let out a small complaining sound as he tries to adjust their position.

“I have no clue,” Bad admits, “I guess he just didn’t want to be imprisoned. It makes sense.” Skeppy hums in agreement. It does make sense. It doesn’t make him feel much better, but it makes sense.

“Should we be worried?”

Bad’s hold tightens on him protectively, and the demon shifts a little so he can press his mouth to Skeppy’s brown hair. One of his hands reaches up and gently presses against the diamond on Skeppy’s chest. The one that links them together. 

“No,” the demon whispers, “I’m not too concerned about it. Sam’s Huntsmen will take care of it.” Bad takes in a long breath and Skeppy relaxes in his hold. “Besides, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Skeppy trusts him.

He sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really excited to see what you all thought of this one! We get some more background on the base, Skeppy's place in the Underworld, and some soft stuff! And hey, hints at Techno and Skeppy's friendship!! :))
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He opens the doors and the entire reception hall falls into silence.  
> Bad takes a few steps forward and Skeppy follows him, watching excitedly as most of the Undead kneel in respect at the sight of their lord, while a few - the older, more powerful ones - incline their heads in a slight bow.  
> Bad keeps walking until he has made his way to the throne, where he sits wordlessly. His eyes find Skeppy and he beckons him closer, until Skeppy is right by his side, where he belongs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> We return to a bit more background, and Skeppy and Bad hanging out! 
> 
> As a very brief update - I have divided one of the last few chapters in 2, so our total numbers of chapter is now 24 :))
> 
> Enjoy!!

A few weeks pass by, and there is no news of Dream.

Of course, a few weeks are nothing for Undead creatures, and Skeppy continues to see the Huntsmen walking around the town more frequently than usual. But Skeppy, despite living for hundreds of years, is still a mortal. Time continues to make sense for him.

So, a few weeks without Dream is enough for him to completely relax. Besides, Bad had said that Sam and the Order would be taking care of the issue. He had waved his hand nonchalantly, as if he were speaking of a particularly irritating bug and had told Skeppy that there was nothing to worry about.

So Skeppy trusts him, he relaxes, and they return to normal.

They go to town once a week, Skeppy holding Bad’s hand as they walk by the shore. They get to see the ships, as Bad had promised, and Skeppy watches longingly as the boats leave the port. He would never leave this place, not until Bad decides to do so and takes him with him, but he sometimes thinks of adventures and of what his life might have been like, if he hadn’t been found by the Demon.

He doesn’t remember exactly when that happened, or who he had been before Bad found him. He doesn’t remember having friends or hobbies. He doesn’t remember his job, whether he had one, or his dreams. He doesn’t remember his mother’s face. He doesn’t care, though. He has Bad, he has Techno, he has anything a mortal could wish for, and that is all that matters to him.

So, things are back to normal. Bad comes to seek Skeppy at any hour of the day, demanding his company, and Skeppy does the same. For Bad, it is always easier though since, most of the time, he simply interrupts a nap. Skeppy sometimes barges into important meetings that Bad is holding with  _ important people.  _ He always ignores the surprised – or sometimes offended – expression from the Undead and grins at Bad, all smug and content in the knowledge that the demon would never chase him away. Bad pretends to sigh before he smiles indulgently and scoots a little on his seat, letting Skeppy join him.

Those meetings are pretty rare, though. Ever since the  _ agreement _ , and especially since they agreed on letting the rational Undead join the Huntsmen’s ranks, Sam has been relatively in control of keeping the balance between the living and the dead. Of course, Bad sometimes has to meet with some of the Undead to remind them of the details of the arrangement - most often to let them know that humans are  _ not  _ to be slaughtered - and he still runs the Council meetings, along with Sam. But, still, he has more free time than ever, and Skeppy  _ loves  _ it.

He loves finding Bad at any point of the day and gently tugging on his cloak until Bad sighs and decreases his size. And then, they spend time together. They go fly around the town, they complete puzzles and enigmas, they play hide-and-seek in Bad’s undergrounds, Bad teaches Skeppy some easy magic tricks, and Bad lets Skeppy try to prank him.

Skeppy always wins.

So, things return to normal, or at least to what has been Skeppy’s normal for the past hundreds of years, even though most humans would not consider it normal.

Things are fine.

Skeppy even got to make one visit to Techno’s mansion, after days of begging Bad to let him do so. Bad can never tell him no, so he eventually let it happen. He flew Skeppy all the way to the doorstep, smiled reassuringly at the maid, and exchanged niceties with Techno. Skeppy pretended not to hear the polite but firm reminder that Skeppy’s safety should be Techno’s absolute priority while he was within his walls, and then Bad had left. Skeppy had laughed and caught up with Techno and the other two vampires, and he even got to meet Tommy again.

Skeppy really liked seeing him. The kid seems much more confident, and the way he jokes around with the vampires indicates some kind of complicity that is usually only present in covens. He told Bad about it and his best friend had smiled knowingly. “Sam’s going to be jealous again,” he had sung teasingly, and Skeppy had laughed.

Things are back to normal, and they are  _ good _ , and Skeppy reminds himself that he loves the prospect of spending eternity with Bad.

Eternity, though, will have to wait, because Bad has decided not to be patient tonight. He jumps up and down on the sole of his feet, his white glowing eyes shining with mirth. He is behaving like a child rather than the Lord of the Undead that he is, and Skeppy would feel fond if he wasn’t in such a hurry.

“Skeppy, Skeppy, are you ready?” the demon sings as his gaze follows Skeppy. The mortal is rushing around the room, fixing his shirt and checking his hair. Bad claps his hands impatiently. “Skeppy, Skeppy, are you rea- You don’t need to fix your hair, Skeppy. You look good like this.”

Skeppy chuckles. “Of course, you would say that,” he responds, rolling his eyes.

Bad goes to nod before he squints a little. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” he pouts, and Skeppy laughs in answer.

“Nothing!” he chirps, moving to one of the vanities. His eyes run over it, and he carefully selects some of the jewelry pieces Bad has bought him over the years. He tilts his head lightly, staring at himself in the mirror as he put on one of his favorite golden earrings. He slides several necklaces over his head, satisfied only when the precious metals start clinging together. He then proceeds to do the same thing with his arms, covering them in bracelets until his skin is completely hidden by the mix of precious stones. He wraps some more jewelry pieces around his ankles and carefully sets some in his hair.

Bad has stopped singing. Skeppy doesn’t turn to look at him but he can picture Bad’s very expression in his mind. Mesmerized.

Skeppy likes the jewelry and all of the presents Bad offers him. Of course, he does. They are constant reminders of the demon’s undying affection. But what he loves even more is Bad’s look when he wears them. Skeppy covers himself in jewels because Bad likes it. Bad is possessive, like all magical creatures are, and the jewels are a message.

They let all of the Undead know that Skeppy is  _ his _ , that Bad claimed him, right from under Sam’s nose, and that Skeppy is untouchable.

Bad doesn’t stay captivated for too long, though, and his playful smile flourishes back on his lips. “Skeppy, Skeppy, are you rea-”

“Yes, Bad, I’m ready!” It’s a snap but it holds no heat and Bad doesn’t flinch. “Prime, you’d think that being a fucking immortal demon would teach you some patience.”

Bad comes closer and boops his nose, as if he weren’t the most terrifying creature in existence, and Skeppy lets him because he loves him. “Language!” the demon chides with a laugh.

Skeppy rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, “I’m ready.”

Bad beams at him and offers him his arm, ever the gentleman. Skeppy takes it and savors the contact, knowing that Bad will have to let go soon.

They walk through the hallways of the underground in comfortable silence until they stop in front of a large door. There is loud chatter behind it, and Bad gives Skeppy a comforting smile.

“Ready?” he asks, no longer sing-songing. The question is real this time, and Skeppy smiles at him reassuringly.

“Bad, you know I love those,” he replies, and the demon smiles, a bit more tenderly than before. Skeppy gives him a nod, and Bad lets go of his arm, taking back his natural size. Skeppy cranes his neck to continue watching his best friend’s face. Only when he is tall enough, does Bad look back and offer Skeppy a smile that he cherishes as much as he does the jewels and the diamond on his chest.

“Let’s do this.”

He opens the doors and the entire reception hall falls into silence.

Bad takes a few steps forward and Skeppy follows him, watching excitedly as most of the Undead kneel in respect at the sight of their lord, while a few - the older, more powerful ones - incline their heads in a slight bow.

Bad keeps walking until he has made his way to the throne, where he sits wordlessly. His eyes find Skeppy and he beckons him closer, until Skeppy is right by his side, where he belongs.

The Undead creatures slowly start raising their heads back up since Bad has reached his throne, and those who had stood up sit back down. Still, all of the attention is still on the Demon, on the Lord of the Undead, on the only creature powerful enough to defy the Spirit and guarantee the survival of the Underworld. All eyes are on Bad.

Skeppy grins.

Bad sighs as a little, loud enough only for Skeppy to hear, and he speaks up. “Thank you,” he says, voice clear and loud in the silent hall, “You may return to your previous activities.”

Some Undead obey, but a majority keeps their gaze on Bad, hoping perhaps to have the opportunity to speak to the Demon. Bad shifts uneasily and Skeppy moves to sit right by his side, close enough for them to touch.

Bad, surprisingly, is not a people’s person. He doesn’t like those demonstrations of power quite as much as he makes it seem, and Skeppy often finds himself silently comforting his best friend by reminding him of his constant presence.

Bad doesn’t enjoy those Underworld receptions. They are simply a tradition that he is meant to maintain. A way to continue asserting his power and keep the harmony among the Undead. 

Skeppy loves the Underworld receptions. He flourishes in the attention. He looks at all of those Undead, all of those creatures who could kill him – those who want to drink his blood and those who want to devour his flesh – and he nestles against Bad, feeling completely at ease. Completely safe.

Bad chuckles a little, as if he could read his thoughts, and he buries his face in Skeppy’s hair. “You’re impossible,” he murmurs with so much tenderness in his voice. Skeppy hums in response, leaning a little into the touch.

“You like it,” he responds, a smug smile on his face, “You’re possessive, Bad.” The demon giggles in his hair and nods.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rumbling a little, “What about it?”

Skeppy shrugs, ignoring Bad’s sound of discontentment when it shifts him a little. “Nothing,” he replies, amused, “Just noting.”

Bad chuckles and he gently dislodge Skeppy. “I have to talk to some people,” he says, a grimace in his voice, “Do you want to come?”

Skeppy scrunches his nose. “Nah. Can I go play chess with Techno?”

Bad makes a contrite face. “Oh, Skeppy,” he replies with an apologetic tone, “Did I not tell you? Techno and his coven couldn’t make it. They wanted to spend more time with the human.”

Skeppy’s heart drops. Techno didn’t come? He looks around the room, full of Undead he’s never taken the time to know. Full of Undead he’s never wanted to know, because they don’t see him as anything but a piece of meat.

“Oh,” he says softly, “I don’t- I was gonna play chess with him…” He points to the board he has brought with him.

Bad looks devastated, like he is about to call the entire night off, for Skeppy’s sake. “Can I- Do you want me to stay?” he asks quickly, sounding a little distressed “I can play chess with you, and I’ll just hold a few meetings later next week. I can-”

Skeppy shakes his head. “No,” he interrupts, “Go talk to your people. I’ll be fine.” Bad blinks a few times, white eyes full of uncertainty. Skeppy makes a smile. “Go!”

“Are you-” Bad’s tail flickers nervously. “You’re good to stay right here?” he says, “On the throne?”

Skeppy nods. “No moving,” he confirms dutifully, “No looking into anyone’s eyes, no eating anything that’s offered to me, no giving my name regardless of who’s asking. And if I feel unsafe, I call you.”

Bad smiles, reassured, and he leans in, almost folding completely. He presses his lips to Skeppy’s forehead, laying his claim, the same way he did when he gave Skeppy his diamond. He moves away, eyes glinting. “I’ll be back,” he promises.

“I know,” Skeppy says, giving the demon a smile. “Go.”

Bad looks at him for a few more seconds before he turns away, and Skeppy flops back into the throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really excited to see what y'all think of the Underworld receptions! We'll meet some nice characters during it! I'm pretty excited to see y'all's reaction to the next few chapters! :))
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looks at the demon’s face, at the way it is divided into a human-looking half and a completely inky black side that reminds Skeppy of Bad’s skin. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notes the green and red eyes, and the juvenile expression.  
> He has absolutely no idea who he is though.  
> “Uh, can I help you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.  
> The demon smiles awkwardly and gestures to the chessboard that Skeppy abandoned at the feet of the throne.  
> “I thought you might want a chess partner?” he offers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> We are starting right back where we left off, with Skeppy alone at the Underworld reception and Bad going around and talking to his subjects. And, as promised yesterday, we meet some new characters :))
> 
> Enjoy!!

Skeppy pouts as the reception continues.

He really counted on Techno being here to distract him. Techno’s always a lot of fun, whether he is alone or with his coven. Internally, Skeppy completely understands the vampire’s decision not to leave Tommy alone at his mansion and not to bring him to the reception. The Undead are a bit restless, laughing together loudly, and drinking something that is most likely not wine. This is not a place for humans.

Skeppy doesn’t count. He isn’t a human; he is Bad’s.

Still, even if Skeppy knows that he is completely safe here, it is still  _ dreadful _ to spend several hours there, when Bad is occupied and Techno isn’t there to entertain him. He shifts to sit sideways on the throne, his back against one of the armrests and his legs swung above the other. He ignores the eyes from some curious Undead – fledglings and newcomers, clearly, because everyone else knows about his behavior – and he keeps pouting. This is going to be boring.

He leans his head against the armrest and watches as Bad walks to a couple of vampires. Ponk and Purpled, he thinks. They welcome him with wide smiles and Ponk moves forward while Purpled steps back behind his Sire. Ponk is quick to catch that though, and he puts a hand on Purpled’s back and involves him back into the conversation. They’re a funny bunch, those two. They are clearly separated by the relationship of authority between Sire and fledgling, but they behave like friends. They’re a bit like Phil and Techno, in that regard. Only, much, much weaker. Skeppy observes as Purpled’s smile drops from his face and Ponk’s eyes harden while Bad speaks to them. He isn’t sure what’s happening, but it clearly is not pleasant. He can’t hear Bad’s voice and he can’t read Ponk’s lips under his mask. He focuses on the youngest vampire, who mouths a name over and over. ‘Punz.’

Huh. Isn't that the vampire that got killed at the Order’s headquarters?

Skeppy vaguely remembers that Ponk’s coven might have been bigger, once upon a time. He thinks of the third vampire that had been there, and he remembers Bad accepting to let him go serve Sam and join the Huntsmen. It seems like that decision had been a fatal mistake.

Skeppy sighs a little and turns back to focus his attention on another group. Callahan is moving around easily, his gestures still as graceful and incomprehensible in Skeppy’s mind. The low demon exchanges smiles with the Undead creatures that glance in his direction, and Skeppy purposely looks away when the blue eyes turn to him.

That’s Bad’s rule number one for Skeppy to be allowed in the Underworld events. Do not let anyone Thrall him or manipulate him in any way shape or form. Skeppy has gotten pretty good at it, after centuries by Bad’s side. He knows exactly where to look so that the vampires  _ feel _ like he is looking into their eyes, he knows what questions he can safely answer, and he knows the best ways to refuse an offering without offending a creature that could kill him with a snap of its fingers.

He is probably as good as Sam’s Huntsmen, Skeppy thinks. Maybe better, given that he has the advantage of coexisting with a majority of the creatures the Huntsmen chase. He knows them, he understands them, and every day he spends by Bad’s side, Skeppy is a little less human and a little more… a little more Bad’s.

He blinks back to the present when someone gives a polite cough near him. Skeppy shifts on the throne to look at the creature that approached him.

A demon, but not one like Callahan, and certainly not one like Bad. Bad, after all, is not  _ a _ demon, he is  _ the _ Demon.

He looks at the demon’s face, at the way it is divided into a human-looking half and a completely inky black side that reminds Skeppy of Bad’s skin. Out of the corner of his eyes, he notes the green and red eyes, and the juvenile expression.

Of course, time doesn’t mean anything in the Underworld, and it is beyond pointless to try to judge a creature’s age by their appearance. Still, Skeppy is still  _ human _ , and he thinks by their standards, and he notes that the demon looks like a fucking kid.

He has absolutely no idea who he is though.

“Uh, can I help you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

The demon smiles awkwardly and gestures to the chessboard that Skeppy abandoned at the feet of the throne.

“I thought you might want a chess partner?” he offers. Skeppy squints and repeats the rules in his head. No eye contact, no answering questions, no making agreement, no eating food, no accepting offerings.

It  _ seems _ like this could be acceptable. His eyes dart to Bad who is still lost in a conversation with Ponk and Purpled. He hums and turns back to the demon.

“Hm, mayyybe?” he tries, “I don’t fucking know you, though.”

The demon blinks a few times, confused. “You don’t?”

Skeppy smiles. “Nope!” he responds, popping the ‘p.’ He looks around, regretting not having thought about bringing some food. He likes the grapes Sam keeps at the headquarters. Maybe he should ask Bad to get them some.

The kid sighs very loudly and closes his eyes. His hands move in complicated circles, in a clearly practiced motion. Green and red flash, and then Skeppy remembers. The kid’s name is Ranboo, and he is a memory demon.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Ranboo says with a timid smile, “I keep forgetting that humans are so sensitive to my presence. My apologies.”

Skeppy blinks a few times, still surprised at how easily he had forgotten the kid, when he has met him several times at these parties. “Yeah,” he mumbles, scrunching his nose, “It’s okay.” He looks down at one of the bracelets Bad got him. This one has beautiful sapphires embedded in the golden band. The color had reminded Bad of Skeppy’s eyes; that’s what he had said, with so much affection in his tone. Skeppy remembers that, he remembers the diamond in his chest, and that’s what matters.

“Shall we have a game of chess, then?” Ranboo asks, tilting his head. Skeppy’s eyes dart back toward him, careful not to look at the demon in the eyes – even though the kid made it clear that eye contact is not necessary for him to use his power.

“I mean...” He pauses and thinks. Techno’s not here, and Bad has moved from talking to Ponk and Purpled to chatting with Callahan. Skeppy is bored. He looks at the demon, at his innocent smile, and gives a small nod. “Yeah, why the hell not?”

Ranboo looks a bit discountenanced, clearly having expected a rejection. “Oh,” he says in a low voice. “Oh, well- Good.”

Skeppy hums and he stands from the throne and moves to the floor where he flops down, legs crossed. If Ranboo is surprised by the informality of it all, he says nothing and sits down in front of him, folding his gigantic body to get to Skeppy’s level. He is not as tall as Bad is – most people are not, but he is very long, and Skeppy would be impressed if he didn’t spend so much time around his best friend.

“Do you wanna play black or white?” Skeppy asks, setting the pieces on the board. He keeps his eyes on the game rather than meeting the demon’s. Ranboo hums in response.

“Either is okay for me,” he replies, “What is your preference?”

Skeppy has a preference. He plays chess with Bad and Techno often enough to know which openings work best when he starts the game or when his opponent does. He doesn’t say that, though, because Bad was clear about replying to certain questions.

“Good try, pal,” he says, “Not responding to that.”

Ranboo makes a small surprised sound. “I was simply curious,” he tries to reassure. He doesn’t fight it though. “I’ll play black,” he says, and Skeppy nods and turns the board to have the white pieces laid out in front of him.

He hums for a second before he moves a pawn and lets his hand fall back. He doesn’t meet the demon eyes. Instead, he focuses on his gloved hands.

“So-” the demon begins as he moves a pawn at his turn, “How is Bad?”

“Good,” Skeppy responds vaguely as he moves his knight in, “He stays busy. You could ask him that yourself.”

Ranboo lets out a small chuckle. “I didn’t mean to make this about him,” he immediately says, “It just seems that you prefer not talking about yourself.” His bishop enters the game.

“Oh?”

The demon shrugs, “It’s just… You never even told me your name.”

Skeppy raises his eyebrows. “Bad doesn’t want me to,” he replies, “You know why.”

“I do,” Ranboo replies in an appeasing manner. He is trying as well as he can not to be antagonistic, and Skeppy appreciates it, even though he doesn’t mention it. He hums in response but does not say anything else. Ranboo seems to notice that, because he tries to pick up the conversation: “So, who do you usually play chess with? You seem quite experienced.”

“Bad,” Skeppy replies without thinking, “And Techno.”

“Technoblade?” the demon repeats, “I’ve heard about him quite a lot. Are you two friends?”

Skeppy goes to answer, but he cannot because the chessboard is suddenly knocked over and Bad is standing between them. Skeppy can hear the growl that comes from his best friend’s throat, he can see the way Bad’s tail is fully raised in warning.

“Back. Off.” The Demon growls. Ranboo hiccups.

“My lord, I wasn’t-”

Bad doesn’t give him a chance to explain. “You know humans are especially vulnerable to your power,” he snarls, “You know your presence would be enough to make him forget.” Skeppy moves away just enough to see the way Bad shows his teeth and reveals his sharp fangs, and the way Ranboo all but bares his throat in surrender. “Stay away from him.”

This is an order, and it is final. Ranboo scampers away.

Bad only relaxes when the demon is out of his sight, and he turns back to Skeppy, furious eyes turning concerned and gentle almost instantly.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hands moving immediately to touch Skeppy, to check that he is unharmed, “Did he hurt you? Do you remember me?”

Skeppy frowns a little and he shrugs Bad’s hands off. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “Bad, I’m fine, he wasn’t-”

Bad makes a grimace. “He is a memory demon, Skeppy,” he explains in a soft voice, “He could have-”

“I know what he could have done,” Skeppy interrupts him, “But he didn’t. He was playing chess with me.”

Bad blinks a few times. “That’s all?” he asks carefully, “He didn’t  _ talk _ to you?”

Skeppy scrunches his nose and shrugs, looking down to the floor. “Not really,” he says, “Asked some questions.”

“What questions?” Bad’s voice is hard, and Skeppy knows that the demon will be punished if he answers incorrectly.

“Nothing bad,” he says, “Just the color I wanted to play. And who my usual chess partners were.” He doesn’t mention the comment about his name. He knows Ranboo hadn’t meant anything bad, but he also knows that Bad won’t think of it that way. “Oh, and he asked how you were.”

Bad doesn’t respond immediately so Skeppy looks up to him. The Demon is biting at his lower lip guiltily.

“I’m sorry, Skeppy,” he says, his voice soft and genuine. He kneels so he can look at Skeppy in the eyes. “I overreacted, didn’t I?”

Skeppy shrugs a little. “I guess,” he mumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Bad says again, “I was just-… His presence worried me. I was worried for you.”

“I saw,” Skeppy replies with a small mirthless snort. “You’re possessive.”

Bad chuckles. “Of you?” he says, and his smile is so much more affectionate, “Always.”

Skeppy hums a little and he lets Bad take him in his arms and bring him back to the throne. He settles back, curling up to the demon, and lets Bad bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m safe,” he says gently while Bad purrs against him. “You don’t have to stay.”

Bad hums. “Maybe I just want to spend time with my best friend,” he replies in the happy tone that Skeppy enjoys so much.

Damn Bad. Skeppy can’t even stay mad at him. Bad acted in a possessive and overprotective manner, but Skeppy just loves him too much to be angry.

“Prime,” he grunts, “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

Bad laughs against him. “Cute?” he repeats, “Most people would not share that opinion. They would say that I’m terrifying.”

“Most people are wrong,” Skeppy says sagely, and Bad giggles.

He looks around, at all of the Undead that are pretending not to be observing them. Some really are not, and are actually focused on their own business. Ponk and Purpled speak at a table, their expression grim. He notices Ranboo in a corner; he speaks in hushed voices with a wolf-like beast - Fundy, Skeppy thinks. Well, at least the demon found a companion.

“See them?” he continues, and Bad hums in agreement even though he doesn’t make a move to dislodge himself from Skeppy and actually look at his subjects. “All wrong.” Bad chuckles and he purrs a bit louder against him.

“Well,” a voice says, “I hope that I am not interrupting anything.”

Bad looks up, nose scrunched at the intrusion, and there’s silence among the Undead who noticed it. There’s an unspoken rule during the receptions, and it is to never interrupt any time the Lord of the Undead spends with his human. Those who last tried, a few centuries ago, had regretted it.

This vampire seems to not have gotten the memo though. He smiles tranquilly at them, as if he weren’t looking at the most dangerous creature in the world. Skeppy snorts. Bad will smite him for the disrespect.

Bad, though, does not laugh. He gently moves Skeppy from his lap and sits up a little on his throne. Skeppy whines at the loss and Bad gives him a warning look before he turns back to the vampire who dared to interrupt them.

“Dream,” Bad says slowly, “What are you doing here?”

Oh.

So this is Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream is just using all of his Maleficient energy to interrupt the reception.   
> A bunch of y'all suggested that he might sneak into the party. Here we go :)) Next chapter, we have a loooong chat with Dream.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the introductions to new background characters!! Silver and I had a ton of fun with Ranboo being a memory demon! :)) Can't wait to see what y'all thought!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad shows his fangs. “Watch. Your. Tone.” he warns for the second time tonight, “You really do not want to make me unhappy, Dream.” He doesn’t stand up, but he makes himself a little taller in his seat. “You may have Sired him, but I am your lord. Do not forget that.”  
> Dream glowers. “Do you know what I think, my lord?” he asks, his voice dripping with false politeness.  
> Bad lets out a hissing sound in warning, and Skeppy catches the way his tail starts moving rapidly. The Demon starts slowly clicking his claws on the armrest of his throne, one finger after the other. “What do you think, Dream?”  
> This isn’t a question, per se. This is a challenge. Bad is daring the vampire to go further, to defy him more. And Dream takes the bait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello tis I, Silver and not Maddie who brings you this chapter! Maddie had some other stuff going on today she'll be back tho don't worry. Thank you to everyone who's been leaving comments, Maddie has been *loving them* and she comes to me regularly to tell me about them, keep up the good work fam. Be sure to leave her some good ones on this chapter, she worked hard on it. 
> 
> She asked me to leave you with one more extremely important message, carry these words with you wherever you go: Suck It Green Boy. 
> 
> That is all.

Skeppy observes the scene from his position, half-hidden behind Bad. He knows that nothing will happen to him – not with Bad here to protect him, but, at the same time, this is the vampire who tried to take on Techno’s coven.

Bad is going to fucking smite him in punishment.

“Ouch,” Dream teases, pressing a hand against his unbeating heart, “I thought this was an Underworld reception for all of the Undead.”

“For the  _ rational _ Undead,” Bad responds coldly, “I do not remember extending an invitation to you.” Dream pouts and goes to answer but Bad does not give him the time, “Speaking of, you should not have been able to even enter those grounds. Who invited you in?”

Dream’s smile widens. “My coven members let me in,” he says as if it were that simple, and Skeppy sees the way Bad sits up a little more to scrutinize the crowd. Surely enough, there are two vampires standing behind Dream. Fledglings, clearly. Their ruby eyes do not leave him for a second and they both look ready to jump to his defense.

They are a bit paler than normal vampires, Skeppy thinks. They look a bit leaner, their cheeks are a bit more hollow, and the bags under their eyes are a bit darker than normal. He doesn’t have the time to ask a question, though, because Bad speaks up:

“Sapnap, George,” he says slowly, “I thought that you two were Huntsmen. You both swore to protect the Living against rogue creatures like him.”

One of the vampires shrugs. “Things change,” he responds, and Bad lets out a low growl, from the back of his throat.

“Watch your tone,” he warns, “You are no longer one of Sam’s. You respond to me, now.”

“Actually,” Dream cuts in, “They both respond to me.”

Bad relaxes on his throne at the words. He leans back, and lets out a chuckle, eyes shining with amusement.

“You have some guts to come here,” he remarks, “All of the Order is looking for you; you are supposed to be in their custody.”

Dream shrugs and extends his arms in demonstration.

“And yet,” he smirks, “I’m here. Free.”

Bad hums in response. “I see that,” he says, and he shifts a little to rest his elbow on the armrest, putting his chin in his hand, “May I ask how you did it?”

“Easy enough,” Dream responds in a calm voice, “I convinced one of the Huntsmen that he had more to gain by supporting me. He let me out, and I was going to escape unnoticed.” He throws a glance at his fledglings. There’s a mix of annoyance and amusement in his red eyes. “But some people were too  _ needy _ and decided that they couldn’t wait for me to get out on my own.”

The two vampires flinch, and one of them gives a small bow in response. A clear apology, a clear sign of respect to their Sire. 

“We wanted you back with us,” the other says.

Dream chuckles. “Needy...” he taunts. The fledglings shrink a little in their spot. 

“I see,” Bad says, “You manipulated your way out of Sam’s vault.” He raises an eyebrow. “Smart. And now, you’re here.”

Dream makes a mock bowing motion and Skeppy scrunches his nose. When is Bad going to smite him?

Bad hums, and there’s still an amused smile on his lips. “I cannot decide whether you being here is brave or incredibly stupid,” he admits, and the vampire looks up questioningly. “On the one hand, I have to applaud the boldness.” He squints a little. “On the other, though, this is pretty reckless. I have many reasons to be mad at you.”

The vampire raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Where do I start?” Bad asks calmly, but there’s a threat of violence in his voice now. Skeppy shivers. The question is to no one in particular, and all of the Undead wait in complete silence. “Let’s work chronological, shall we?”

Dream blinks in agreement, and his coven members come a bit closer to him, as if they could feel the menace in Bad’s tone.

“Those two,” Bad says, and he makes a small movement of his chin to designate them, “Not only did you turn them without my consent, but you also deliberately stole them from Sam.”

An amused smile appears on Dream’s lips. “What can I say?” he defends, “I love what is forbidden.”

Bad’s next hum is a warning sound. “Don’t interrupt me,” he orders, and Skeppy sees the way Dream has to repress a movement backward. “You could have stopped, then, after turning them. I would have been annoyed, but I would have let it go. You know the Agreement. I would have convinced Sam to be lenient.”

Bad pauses at that and he moves to check on Skeppy. His threatening look changes immediately into a kind one as he ruffles Skeppy’s hair. Skeppy isn't sure if the gesture is meant for him, as an appeasement, or if it allows Bad to calm himself down. In any case, Skeppy smiles at him and Bad purrs in the back of his throat before turning his attention back to the vampire.

“But then,” he continues, “You deliberately tried to stir up conflict. You tried to frame Technoblade’s fledgling, and you attempted to cause a drift between me and Sam.” His tone hardens. “Didn’t you?”

“I did,” Dream admits, voice strained as if the words were forced out of his throat.

“That’s right,” Bad says. He sounds mildly angry now. “You tried to nullify the Agreement. Was that your plan?” Dream shrugs but does not reply. This is confirmation of its own. “And causing discord wasn’t enough. You purposely and specifically went for Techno’s coven, despite their position in our world.”

Skeppy feels warm at the words. Bad normally doesn’t bother intervening in the vampires’ in-fighting, but Techno’s coven is special. It is special because Skeppy told Bad that he liked Technoblade, a few centuries ago, and so Bad decided to keep an eye on them, for Skeppy’s sake. He would never admit it openly, of course, because it would cause some major drift to have the Demon admit to some favoritism. Still a majority of the Undead is aware of it and, most importantly, Skeppy knows.

On top of that, Techno is probably the oldest vampire in the city, and he and Phil are the ones who contributed to the new system within the Agreement, the one in which the Undead no longer have to cower in the Underworld and live in fear of the Spirit and his Huntsmen. Instead, they are free to come and go as they please, and some Undead even choose to join the Order and participate in keeping the balance in the world. The system works, and Techno was a key player in creating it.

So going after him was one of Dream’s biggest mistakes.

“I Sired him,” Dream growls, “I have more rights to him and his than you do.”

Bad shows his fangs. “Watch. Your. Tone.” he warns for the second time tonight, “You really do not want to make me unhappy, Dream.” He doesn’t stand up, but he makes himself a little taller in his seat. “You may have Sired him, but I am your lord. Do not forget that.”

Dream glowers. “Do you know what I think, my lord?” he asks, his voice dripping with false politeness.

Bad lets out a hissing sound in warning, and Skeppy catches the way his tail starts moving rapidly. The Demon starts slowly clicking his claws on the armrest of his throne, one finger after the other. “What do you think, Dream?”

This isn’t a question, per se. This is a challenge. Bad is daring the vampire to go further, to defy him more. And Dream takes the bait.

He is almost like a youngling, Skeppy thinks. Any Undead creature that has lived for more than a few decades knows how dangerous it is to defy the Demon. No one would dare to purposely stand in front of the Lord of the Undead and challenge him this way.

But Dream does.

“I think that you’ve mellowed,” he says, and he raises his voice for everyone around them to hear. “I think that you’ve grown soft.”

Bad tenses and there’s suddenly tension in his jaw.

“You bow to the Spirit,” Dream spits, “You bow to the  _ humans _ .” He sneers in Skeppy’s direction and Bad growls. Dream turns, and his eyes are no longer on Bad but rather on those around him, and he speaks a bit louder. “We could be so much more. There are no reasons for us to submit to the Spirit’s rules and cower in fear from his Huntsmen.”

The room is completely silent, apart from Dream’s voice. Skeppy watches the way Bad’s chest heaves with barely controlled breaths. He is mad. He can feel it.

“But the Demon no longer has our interests at heart. He is not acting for us. He is twisted around the human’s fingers, and he is nothing but a servant to the Spirit.” He pauses and turns again. “An  _ agreement _ ?” he spits, “Don’t make me laugh. You’ve sold our entire world out to the Spirit.” Bad’s growl becomes louder at the smug expression on Dream’s face. “We could be so much more. We could rule this earth.”

“Dream-” Bad warns in a low, threatening voice.

“We don’t have to live in the shadows,” Dream promises, his voice all honeyed and genuine, and Skeppy notices the way some of the vampires perk up at the words, “I can change that.”

Bad stands.

There’s an immediate recoil from a majority of the Undead, and Dream is soon facing the Demon on his own. His coven members are still there, but even they couldn’t fight their instinctive movement backward.

“I should smite you where you stand,” Bad growls.

Dream raises an eyebrow. “But?”

“But the Spirit has claimed jurisdiction over you,” the demon continues lowly, “You tried to take one of his – one that he specifically put under his protection.”

“Tommy,” Dream hisses, “I told him that I wasn’t interested in the kid anymore. Too whiny. Too  _ human _ .”

Skeppy tenses a little at the words and Bad seems to immediately notice it. He moves back to the throne and presses a reassuring hand on his chest, right over the diamond. Nothing will happen to him. Not under Bad’s watch.

“So you know what I’ll do instead, Dream?” Bad says, tilting his head lightly. He seems amused now. He relaxes back into his throne, and Skeppy moves to nestle to him. Bad is not tense anymore, so they are safe. “I’m withdrawing my protection from you.” He pauses and his eyes fix upon George and Sapnap for an instant, “And yours.”

Dream laughs disbelievingly. “What makes you think that I would care?”

Bad smiles calmly, and there is so much power and menace in the smile that even Skeppy freezes for a second. “How do you think you are still breathing?” Bad asks in a very gentle voice. It holds an unsaid threat, and Dream has a movement of recoil. “Think, Dream. Why haven’t you been staked by one of the Huntsmen? Why did Sam send you to his vault rather than have a more… permanent punishment?” His white eyes glow. “Who do you think stopped Technoblade from killing you the moment he awoke?”

Dream’s breath catches in his throat. “You aren’t-”

“I take my duty very seriously, Dream, whatever you may think of it.” Bad’s tone is firm and definitive, and it gives room for no argument. “The very same way Sam protects the Living, my duty is to watch over the Undead. I have sworn to protect them.” His eyes shine a bit more brightly and some of the Undead immediately glance away, cowering from the display of power. “The only reason you are not a pile of ashes is because I wished it so.”

Skeppy shifts a little against Bad. As much as he enjoys it when Bad reminds everyone of his raw power, he would also prefer it if this ended quickly. Even after hundreds of years spent by his side, Bad still sometimes manages to scare him.

“But I  _ really _ do not like those who defy me, Dream,” Bad continues tranquilly, “Or the rogue Undead who threaten the balance we have established.”

Bad stands up and raises his voice. It booms in the silent room. “Let it be known that this vampire is no longer under my protection,” he declares to the crowd around them. “Anyone who chooses to harm him or his coven may do so without incurring my wrath.” He pauses and lets his gaze wander around the room tranquilly, as if he did not just condemn a man and his companions to death. “This goes for all Undead, as well as those who serve the Spirit.”

He sits back down, and Skeppy hurries to curl back up near him. Bad smiles softly at the gesture of affection and he wraps a hand around Skeppy’s waist. “I do not take lightly to threats, Dream,” he chides in a gentle voice, “Perhaps coming here was truly reckless on your part.” He leans back into his throne and observes the vampire that he just damned. “I hope that you enjoy hunts.”

Dream goes to answer but Ranboo comes forward, standing tall behind the vampire. Purpled is behind him, cutting George and Sapnap’s chance to step away. Skeppy looks at the fury in the young vampire’s eyes and he is reminded that Dream attacked his coven, too.

“My lord,” Ranboo says respectfully, “Do I have your permission to escort this man out of your area?” Bad blinks a few times before he responds to the request with a nonchalant gesture of his hand.

“Do as you please,” he replies, and there’s a teasing smile on his lips, “Just make sure that he doesn’t forget my warning.” Ranboo nods hurriedly and gives a small bow.

Bad turns his attention back to Purpled, who shakes with rage. “Purpled,” he says very gently, “I am not one to tell you how to enact a justified vengeance, especially not after I have agreed not to intervene.” The young vampire takes a step forward, but Bad’s raised hand stops him. “But-” he says, “I believe that your Sire also deserves this closure.” His calm gaze moves back to Dream and his coven. “Let them go for now,” he orders, “Ranboo?”

“My lord?”

“Accompany them out.”

Dream spits on the floor. “We don’t need one of your servants to walk us out,” he sneers. The Demon raises an unamused eyebrow but does not respond, “We will find the way out ourselves.”

Bad shrugs. “Very well,” he says, “Get out of my sight.”

Dream glowers at him. “You will regret this,” he threatens in a hiss.

“Out of my sight, I said.”

And even though it looks like Dream wants to fight it, he must, in fact, not be too reckless. He glares a bit more before turning away and leaving in large strides, his coven members hurrying after him.

He leaves a very long, uncomfortable silence behind him.


End file.
